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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27299932">There is 1 impostor among us</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writing01/pseuds/Writing01'>Writing01</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>[hurting Patton] [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Among Us (Video Game), Sanders Sides (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alien Biology, Alien Culture, Aliens, Alternate Universe - Among Us (Video Game) Setting, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders Angst, Aromantic Asexual Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Biracial Logic | Logan Sanders, Body Horror, Capitalism, Coming Out, Communism, Communism &amp; Capitalism, Corruption, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Angst, Culture Shock, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders Angst, Deceit | Janus Sanders Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Forced coming out, Found Family, Friendly Impostor, Gen, Global Warming, Heavy Angst, Homeless Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Homelessness, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Impostor Cyan (Among Us), Injury Recovery, Innuendo, Logic | Logan Sanders Angst, Mira HQ (Among Us), Monster!Patton, Morality | Patton Sanders Angst, Morality | Patton Sanders-centric, Neurodivergent Logic | Logan, No Sex, Paranoia, People are company property, People are state property, Propoganda, Red Herrings, Self-Sacrifice, Sexual Humor, Sibling dynamic, Slow Build, Stabbing, Sympathetic Dark Sides (Sanders Sides), Sympathetic Impostor, Sympathetic Light Sides (Sanders Sides), Sympathetic Sides (Sanders Sides), The Skeld (Among Us), Trans Deceit | Janus Sanders, Trans Male Deceit | Janus Sanders, Wordcount: 50.000-100.000, Xenophobia, corrupt corporation, corrupt government</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:08:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,176</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27299932</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writing01/pseuds/Writing01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Patton Hart is an impostor sent by his corrupt government to kill humans on a spaceship. He doesn't want to.<br/>The crew, upon receiving information from the corrupt MIRA HQ realize they've been scammed into a death sentence with at least one impostor on board.<br/>Paranoia and fear spike, though through time, the members upon The Skeld build a real trust, thinking that there aren't any real aliens on the ship.<br/>Then the truth comes out, and everything comes crashing down.<br/>How will they handle this delicate and complicated situation? </p><p>(Badly, of course.)</p><p>•••<br/>NaNoWriMo 2020<br/>[[ You don't need to be into both fandoms this work is from to understand the plot ]]</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anxiety | Virgil &amp; Creativity | Roman &amp; Logic | Logan &amp; Morality | Patton, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders &amp; Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders &amp; Deceit | Janus Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders &amp; Morality | Patton Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders &amp; Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders &amp; Deceit | Janus Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders &amp; Logic | Logan Sanders, platonic DRLAMP</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>[hurting Patton] [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2271245</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>86</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>132</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Emergency Meeting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26752954">The Last Of A Dying Breed (Among Us AU)</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTeamJBJBLABMB/pseuds/TheTeamJBJBLABMB">TheTeamJBJBLABMB</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Loosely inspired by TheTeamJBJBLABMB. Give them a look and your support, they produce great work!</p><p>I took advice from MatPat in his Game Theory YouTube channel for a strategy in Among Us and applied it to the strategy the crew utilizes; take a look at his video because it's really good</p><p>•••</p><p>Janus is trans FtM, Logan is biracial (south Korean/white) and neurodivergent, Virgil was previously homeless, Remus is asexual and aromantic. If someone isn't okay with these things, please don't read my fanfiction. If you do anyway, please don't be hateful</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Written &amp; Published: 11.01.20<br/>NaNoWriMo</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There’s a heavy silence surrounding the emergency meeting table.</p><p>It has been two days since launch. There is no way to go back. Although not even Green has said a thing since watching the recording and reviewing the files sent by MIRA HQ, they all know what everyone else in the room must be thinking. </p><p>
  <em> Well.  </em>
</p><p>Everyone in the room except one. <em> Two, </em> if the Fates are feeling especially cruel.</p><p>Purple’s leg bounces in anxiety, his arms crossed over his chest tightly. It’s distracting.</p><p>Yellow seems lost in thought, surprisingly calm, given the horrific circumstance.</p><p>Blue analyzes the lot he’s been given carefully. As captain, he knows that the impostor among them will be awfully adept at pretending to be human. Still, it can’t hurt to observe their body language and mannerisms.</p><p>Cyan stares into space. Literally. He gazes through the window, unreadable.</p><p>Red grasps Green’s arm for dear life. </p><p>Green, normally cheeky and weird and gross, does nothing but scoot closer to his brother and lean on his shoulder, the glass of his a stronaut’s helmet angled downwards to the floor. It was strange to see a person so disturbing and so disturbed not only speechless at grim circumstance, but afraid.</p><p>The six sit like that for minutes that span years, no doubt understanding that this is truly the only safe position left for them to be in. One where every crewmate was present, so the impostor, whoever he was, would know better than to have a quick snack. </p><p>Blue puts his face in his hands and sighs. Attention snaps to him.</p><p>He sits up straight. It’s only been two days, but the crew can already tell that the stoic and serious blue-clad astronaut is a clever man. His brain works faster and in ways theirs just aren’t wired to.</p><p>They hope it’s because he’s neurodivergent rather than a tentacled, bloodthirsty otherworlder.</p><p>They hope he has helpful insight.</p><p>“Gentlemen,” he begins, “we’ve been scammed. And I suggest that you pray, come to terms with the situation, write your wills-- for whatever it is that needs to be done: do it. With the information that we have been relayed from corporate, I am damn near positive that a situation in which all the humans at this table survive this experience is increasingly unlikely.” </p><p>He takes a breath. “I’m… sorry. You won’t hear that from any other authority figure involved in this situation. I’m sorry you were misled. I was too.”</p><p>Blue seems to sag, burdened now much more than he already was, “I can’t-- I can’t <em> save </em>all of you. So in advance…” </p><p>Purple’s leg stops shaking in anxiety, though his shoulders begin to shake with silent sobs.</p><p>“I’m sorry.”</p><p>The silence consumes them once more.</p><p>No one wants to leave the safety of the table.</p><p>Finally, Cyan raises his hand. Blue smiles beneath his helmet at how the other man keeps up polite manners even in crisis, probably from hysteria, and nods in the other man’s direction.</p><p>Cyan tugs at his fingers.</p><p>“I don’t follow,” he begins, “what do you mean we were set up? What-- What’s going <em> on?” </em></p><p>Blue dipped his head politely at the question. “Apologies, for not explaining myself-- and <em> condolences… </em> for this information.” He sighs, overwhelmed, barely keeping it together for the sake of his crew. “I-- the six of us here. <em> Out </em> here, and all those other crews, out here with us: we’ve-- we’ve only been here for thirty-five hours. And yet HQ already has so much information. How these <em> ‘impostors’ </em> hunt, and <em> what </em>they hunt. Their goals. Their anatomy.”</p><p>Yellow cocks his head curiously.</p><p>“I’m trying to convey that-- well, MIRA knew.”</p><p>Red sucks in a breath and a shake runs through his body. He clings onto his brother even harder.</p><p>"They knew all along."</p><p>Purple bows his head in sorrow, the pieces clicking into place.</p><p>Cyan catches his hand comfortingly. It's a small kindness that means so much. </p><p>“They said that they discovered the existence of impostors yesterday, but that doesn't make sense. They have too much information and it’s been too soon since launch to be feasibly true at all. Then there's that contract we signed before getting on. That said we are required to fulfill our mission before coming back, that if we do come back before we are done, that they’ll shoot us down on sight with guided missiles-- my fellows: I’m sure that you remember, it was repeated throughout our contracts that we are to finish our mission or <em> ‘die trying!’ </em></p><p>“It seemed like silly hoops we had to jump to prove our dedication-- and there’s not a doubt in my mind that it was meant to come across that way-- <em>but now?”</em></p><p>His voice quakes and breaks, “They knew of the impostors all along. They lied to us. They preyed on us for their own gain. They have us in lock and key. We are stranded out here, and at least one of us was sent to kill, dismember, and feast on the rest of our bodies so that their species can one day control ours as us to livestock, reducing us to nothing more than a cog in organized farming.”</p><p>Cyan nods grimly and inhales deeply, obviously trying to calm himself down. </p><p>It doesn’t work.</p><p>He bursts into tears. </p><p>Yellow awkwardly pats his arm. Cyan seems to appreciate the gesture.</p><p>Purple swallows thickly, “So what do we do, Blue? You-- you must have a plan," barely above a whisper, he adds, "you <em>need</em> to have a plan.”</p><p>Blue clasps his hands and rests them on the table, “I do. I have an idea of what needs to be done.</p><p>“There’s six of us here, so according to the information we were provided with, there’s at most only two impostors among us, as MIRA explained that as soon as the amount of impostors is equal to crewmates, they will overpower the humans as there is no way they couldn’t win in those kinds of odds. If only three of us were human, the impostors would have acted already. We'd all be dead by now.</p><p>“That leaves us to one to two impostors. It’s unlikely that there is more than one alien here, but it is possible. With this in mind, we should group together rather than go alone.”</p><p>“Threesomes?” Green suggestively comments.</p><p>Blue either doesn’t pick up on the innuendo or is just unaffected, “No, duos would be a better idea. If there’s two impostors in one group, they can kill their assigned crewmate, bringing us to three crewmates and two impostors. They’re stronger and have better senses than us. They could take the humans easily from there, outnumbered as they are.”</p><p>“That's the worst case scenario though. You just said that the worst case scenario is really unlikely,” Red chimes in. Green nods in agreement with his twin.</p><p>“True as that statement is, it still remains a possibility. I would much rather we treat the situation with an intense amount of caution than the alternative. We have high stakes here.”</p><p>The silence returns.</p><p>“What do we do if we see something suspicious? What even would qualify as suspicious behavior?” Yellow asks.</p><p>"Well, suspicious behavior would just mean anything that could point to someone here not being human. From going through the vents or not reporting a-- <em>a body</em>  to simply acting... off. We have to be on the lookout for anything. As for what to do from there...</p><p>“Call an emergency meeting here, before they can--" he pauses and takes a breath in, cutting off where they all knew his sentence was leading. "Make your claim. The ones here can vote and decide: a majority rule.”</p><p>Cyan swallows fear in his throat, “Decide what?”</p><p>Blue looks down. “Who to send into the airlock.” After a beat of silence, “Who to eject.”</p><p>Silence passes. Red finds his voice.</p><p>“Who to <em> kill?!”  </em>he exclaims dramatically.</p><p>Blue presses his hands to the glass over his face.</p><p>“I don’t know what else to do,” he whispers in a small voice, “I want to keep all of you alive, but I can’t. I-- I just<em> can’t." </em></p><p>"I'm sorry."</p><p>A sinking realization fills the room.</p><p>They know that he's apologizing to the ones who will die.</p><p> </p><p>No one else has any more questions.</p><p>Red and Green remain in a tight embrace. Yellow rests his head on the table, hands over his helmet. Cyan leans on the shoulder next to his, Purple allowing him. Blue surveys his crew and looks down, shaking his head in dread. </p><p>He isn’t okay with this. None of them are.</p><p>... Perhaps surprising to some, that's a true statement. </p>
<hr/><p>Yellow is with Blue. Split into groups of two, he’d gone with the captain to Navigation where the pair would take turns awake in case the impostor got brave.</p><p>Taking a seat at the control panel, he contemplates his situation coolly.</p><p>He knows why he came onto the ship. He didn’t have any other options, and although he knew there'd be dangers and his mental strength would be tested over and over again, he never imagined that it would come to this. Fear sends his heart into stitches as he clutches a dagger in his hand to sleep.</p><p> </p><p>Red hasn’t held his brother’s hand since they were kids and they used a buddy system to make sure they never got lost alone. Green hasn’t held his brother’s hand since earlier that day when he duct-taped a flamethrower to his brother’s blocky gloves as a prank. Tonight they hold hands again, this time for less wholesome or humorous reasons than either would like. They go to sleep on the floor of weapons, praying they <em> both </em>wake up the next day. </p><p> </p><p>Purple is one to easily startle. Even if he wasn't, he’d still be terrified. The odds of him getting out of here alive are much less than he’d prefer them to be. Going to sleep on a bed in the Medbay, he prays Cyan doesn’t notice the tears staining his cheeks behind his helmet.</p><p> </p><p>Cyan notices. Draping a blanket over the crewmate’s body, he clasps Purple’s shoulder soothingly. </p><p>The smaller astronaut looks so peaceful, in an odd way.</p><p>Settling into the bed next to Purple, Patton buries his head into his knees and hopes his silent breakdown goes unnoticed.</p><p>He didn’t ask for this. </p><p>He didn’t ask to be an impostor. </p><p>He didn’t ask for his awful government, and he certainly didn't ask to be sent out here.</p><p>He didn’t ask to be assigned a murderer. </p><p>Curling into the bedding, he hugs a pillow to his chest and hides how his body quakes with held back tears. The last thing anyone needs is for their doctor to be having a mental breakdown.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. where // cafe</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Stabbed</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>TW: depictions of a stab wound and various anxiety attacks</p><p>Written &amp; Published: 11.02.20 <br/>NaNoWriMo</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The crew had started the day in the cafeteria. Closing off all the doors and letting oxygen vent in from O2 so they could take their suits off, stretch, change into fresh clothes, etc. They've just finished breakfast (pizza, because as Green had put it, "What are the odds that all six of us will even be alive by the end of this week? May as well eat pizza like it's the last sex you'll ever have, men!") and Janus is currently standing around awkwardly in Storage, where he'd told Blue he'd go.</p><p>Janus opens his crewmate’s tablet, hoping his lie won't end up being exposed.</p><p>Clicking on the small green button in the homescreen, his list is brought up:</p><p> </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><em>Electrical : </em> <em>Calibrate Distributor</em></p>
  <p><em>Cafeteria :</em> <em>Download Data </em></p>
  <p><em>Reactor : </em> <em>Align Engine Output 0/2</em></p>
  <p><em>O2 :</em> <em>Clean O2 Filter</em></p>
</blockquote><p>Janus blinked down at his screen, a spreading dread and darkness stuck in his stomach.</p><p>Oh. </p><p>
  <em> Great.  </em>
</p><p>Electrical. </p><p>It wasn’t like Janus completely and totally cheated on that portion of his training because the course was so mind-numbingly <em> boring </em>or anything.</p><p><em>Him? </em>Never.</p><p><em> Totally </em> like Electrical, with the venting system, flickering lights, and scattered debris and wiring all over the place was an <em> absolutely </em>safe spot to be on the ship alone.</p><p>God, he was so screwed.</p><p>Blue had suggested the two men stay together since that would make it much harder for an impostor to attack, but Janus had come up with some stupid excuse about having a task in Storage to complete. In his defense, he didn’t want to be alone with Blue just in case the guy turned out to be an alien trying to trick Janus into being alone with him.</p><p>The truth was he hadn’t even looked at his task list up until that point yet.</p><p>Janus sighed but made his way to Electrical.</p><p>Red and Green passed him on their from the Cafeteria to Shields, curtly nodding in his direction. Janus idly wondered the likelihood that he would be killed in Electrical. He’d only ever been in once, but he remembered a vent in the floor way in the back of the room. Supposedly it connected to Security and the Medbay, making a triangle of tunnels in the ground. </p><p>He worried about the venting system because according to one of the files the crew had read in Admin, impostors could go through the vents of the ship. Though the vent doors looked relatively small, the truth was they opened up to gaping tunnels that went through the ship several tens of feet, and the walls were smooth metal, meaning that if a crew member fell in and somehow managed to survive the great fall, they’d surely die down there unless discovered. The vent hinges had springs in them too, meaning they’d shut on their own. </p><p>Impostors, with their nine suctioned tendrils measuring something like thirty feet each, had no trouble getting through the vents and using them as unfortunately fast transportation through the ship. Though the ship itself only had spare few vents dispersed throughout (near the tail end, the reactor had two systems to the upper and lower engine, mirrored by the front with navigation and shields and weapons; mirroring Electrical’s triangle with Reactor and Security, the Cafeteria formed another triangle with Admin and the front hall), it still had vents at all, and as far as Janus was concerned, that was vents at all too many.</p><p>Janus briefly considered turning around and admitting to his captain that he had no idea how any of the tasks in Electrical worked, but that would mean admitting he lied before about having a task in Storage, admitting he cheated in training, and admitting that he didn’t know what he was doing, a trait only impostors were rumored to have. Especially combined with the fact that the room in question was probably the most opportune place to commit murder in the whole ship, Janus would just make himself look like an impostor trying to prey on Blue in Electrical.</p><p>He stood at the entrance of the badly lit room. </p><p>He didn’t even know what a distributor was. </p><p>Glancing down at his tablet, he clicks open the information button next to the first task. </p><p> </p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em> Easily recognizable by the yellow triangle with a lighting bolt on it, signifying it has to do with electrical currents and power. Simply open it by the handle, and input the correct information. </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>He looked back up. Before him was a control wall with a bunch of cabinet doors on it, each holding important parts to maintaining the ship as livable.</p><p>On one such door was a yellow triangle, with a lighting bolt on it.</p><p>
  <em> Bingo. </em>
</p><p>Janus breathed a sigh of relief and walked forward. Maybe he’d mange to survive the day without getting eaten or tossed in the airlock, after all.</p><p>The task <em> seemed </em> to be relatively easy. <em> What could possibly go wrong? </em></p><p>He nodded to reassure himself. The sign looked just as it was described in his task list.</p><p>Opening the door, he was met by five metal switches with green lights underneath them.</p><p>Five switches. God, Janus lucked out. </p><p>Painless and easy. He’d worked himself up for nothing.</p><p>Granted, he didn’t really know what any of the switches did or what the green light represented, but even if he was wrong, what was the worst that could happen from flipping a simple switch?</p><p>Low stakes.</p><p>He reached a finger out and casually flicked the first switch off.</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em>“Remus?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yeah, Ro Bro?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“...”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What’s wrong?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I think… I think I’m an idiot.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Remus snorted. “Took you long enough to get to that conclusion but you got there, at least!” he lightly teased, “What’s wrong?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I keep trying to click off the red hexes to set shields up, but I don’t know what I’m doing.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Remus shrugged and sheathed his dagger. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ever since finding out that an impostor had infiltrated their merry crew, the two brothers had made it a habit to always carry around a weapon just in case. Personally, Remus knew for a fact that the weirdo Yellow had one on him too because he’d seen the long knife in the other man’s personal belongings when he’d first boarded. No doubt the quiet loner was carrying the stabby-stick on him at all times now that an impostor had been announced, so Remus didn’t feel so guilty for being prepared. If other people were doing it, what was the harm, right? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He turned around from where he’d been standing guard before the vent (never know when an overly sentient and violent octopus from outer space was gonna pop up out of one of them and go ham on some unsuspecting schmuck after all) and leaned over his brother’s shoulder.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He giggled, immediately noticing what his brother hadn’t.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Roman’s eyes rolled as he closed his eyes and sighed, preparing himself. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What.”</em>
</p><p><em>“Oh, </em>you sweet summer child,”<em> Remus began faux-kindly,</em></p><p>
  <em>“What is it, Remus.”</em>
</p><p><em>“God bless your soul, </em>tru--”</p><p><em>“Goddammit, Remus, </em>what did I do wrong?”</p><p>
  <em>Remus snorted out laughs, “The mouse is unplugged, you ding dong!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Roman visibly lost ten years of his life at the realization that his twin was indeed right.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Bruh.” He mumbled.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes, bruh?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You know what I meant, bruh.”</em>
</p><p>“Bruh.” </p><p>
  <em>Roman’s lips twitched in a smile as Remus turned around and guarded the pair from the vent.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Roman clicked around for a few more minutes, until--</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Darkness.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Remus let out a high-pitched screech.</em>
</p><p>“Ro-- Roman?!” </p><p>
  <em>“Remus?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Silence greeted him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Where-- where are you!?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He sucked in shallow breaths. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Follow my voice! Do you hear me?!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“FOLLOW MY VOICE!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His cry resounded across the lower part of the empty ship. Remus didn’t respond.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Swearing, Roman dropped his tablet on the ground, too bothered to pick it up, he pulled out his dagger and chased into the nothingness. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Remus wasn't going to get eaten if he had anything to do about it.</em>
</p>
<hr/><p>Virgil is hiding underneath a table in Storage and crying softly to himself.</p><p>He’s too young to die. He turned twenty-one just last December.</p><p>God, he was <em> so damn stupid </em> for agreeing to this whole operation in the first place. </p><p>He knew what the alternative would have been. With the rise of climate change, all governments can do now is slow it down as scientists hurry for a cure. Part of what that operation had entailed was the artificial winters. It was an experimental procedure, so sometimes they didn’t get it quite right. </p><p>For example, sometimes it wasn’t cold enough. </p><p>And on the other hand, <em> sometimes </em> it was <em> too </em> cold. <em> Deathly </em>cold.</p><p>Despite that, knowing what he knows now, Virgil can’t help but to wonder if passing alone on the streets one cold winter night would have been a kinder end than the one he was convinced would greet him on this hellscape of a spaceship.</p><p>He closes his eyes and cries, knowing what needs to be done.</p><p>He balls his fists up, and stands, sobbing.</p><p>Each step feeling like he’s dragging a weight, with a million different reasons raking through his cerebral cortex as to why he shouldn’t do what he’s about to do.</p><p>He does it anyway.</p><p>He needs to be brave. <em>His crew</em> needs for him to be brave.</p><p>One foot in front of the other, he pushes himself to the cafeteria.</p><p>An emergency meeting has to be called. <em> Now. </em></p><p>He takes a deep breath and runs. He runs down the hall past Admin and vaults himself over a table, slamming his hand messily over the bright red button. </p><p>The sirens go off. His crewmates will come. More importantly than that, he’s away from Electrical. Away from where whoever-- or more accurately, <em> whatever-- </em> turned off the lights.</p><p>Forcing down his anxiety attack, his senses slowly start to refocus. </p><p>He prays one of his crewmates will join him soon.</p><p>His heart skips as he realizes he's already with someone.</p><p>“H-- Help… please, someone, <em>please-- oh god,</em> please just help me. I don’t-- I don’t wanna die. <em>I don’t wanna die…” </em></p>
<hr/><p>
  <em>The lights were out.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>This was simply and plainly not good.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>There was only one reason the lights would be out on this ship, and-- </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Well…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Logan stood up from the control panel in Navigation.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was a trap. The lights were a trap. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The impostor clearly wanted the crew to head to Electrical, where he would surely finish them off one by one while the humans were blinded in darkness.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>So, to counteract this, Logan knew what to do. Controlling his breathing to be deep, steady, and reliable, he began to walk to Electrical, taking the care to be extra calm. He’d call an emergency meeting. Sirens would go off, offering minimal light (though light at all) and his crew would know to follow protocol and arrive at the cafeteria in a timely manner.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Walking slowly and carefully, he trailed his fingers along the wall to his right hand side until it gave away and he stumbled blindly through Weapons.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Fearfully, he hoped that neither of the twins, lest they not be human, were within that room with him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Finally he stumbled out of the room and into the Cafeteria, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Walking in a straight line forward, he would eventually run into the main table with the emergency button, and everything would be fine again.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He took in a breath, finally feeling calmer. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Taking a confident step forward-- </em>
</p><p>He fell to his knees.</p><p>
  <em>Blood dripped down his body, soaking his t-shirt and jeans underneath the heavy suit. Adrenaline, endorphins-- chemicals left and right flooded his brain in a riptide of reaction. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He collapsed in a heap on the floor, tears filling his eyes as blood filled his suit. The pain was unbearable. A sharp, foreign object was lodged into his back, piercing skin and flesh and organs.</em>
</p><p>Oh God.</p><p>
  <em>He was going to die.</em>
</p>
<hr/><p>Confusion and fear fill Patton’s insides. First the lights go off, and now an emergency meeting? Sure, the meeting might be <em> because </em>the lights are off but something-- something <em>is wrong.</em></p><p>He bites his lip and stands up worriedly, making his way to the entrance. </p><p>A scent wafts its way through the door.</p><p>He thinks he’s going to faint. It smells faintly of what humans would compare to roses and pumpkin pie, but scents can be deceiving. He feels nauseous, bad memories rising in his brain from back on his Homeworld.</p><p>He shakes his head as if to shake off the thoughts and feels tears prick his eyes.</p><p>He swallows unsteadily and runs to the Cafeteria. </p><p>To the east of the Emergency Meeting table, a bloody sight greets Patton. </p><p>Purple is kneeling next to Blue, Yellow is at his side, hand wrapped around Blue's as Purple supports his head above the ground and does his best to slide a strip of cloth (Patton recognizes it as a discarded table cloth from storage) beneath the wounded man's body.</p><p>Patton ignores the screaming sirens as he scoops up Blue in his arms, using the blanket to keep the knife from falling out of his body and making him bleed out anymore than he already has, and books it right back to Medbay, Yellow and Purple in tow. </p><p>Pat has work to do. </p><p>He prays it’s enough.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. yellow sus</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Listen: Patton's just trying his best, okay?!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Written &amp; Published: 11.03.20<br/>NaNoWriMo</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You’re awake.”</p><p>Blue blinks blearily up at Cyan. </p><p>After a moment of silence, Blue finds his voice.</p><p>“I was stabbed.”</p><p>Cyan nods shakily.</p><p>“You were stabbed.”</p><p>Blue breathes out and presses his palms over his eyes.</p><p>“I lived?”</p><p>“You lived.”</p><p>They stare at each other for a few long seconds.</p><p>Cyan breaks down and stumbles into the Medbay seat behind him, “Oh my god, you’re alive.”</p><p>Blue doesn’t say anything, only staring up at the ceiling.</p><p>Cyan collects himself.</p><p>“How are you feeling? How much does it hurt?”</p><p>Blue thinks for a minute. “Not so bad, considering. It feels like a really bad ache.”</p><p>Cyan breathes in relief, “That’s good. With the stuff I put you on, that should be about what you’re feeling right now.”</p><p>“Where are the others?”</p><p>Cyan opens his mouth to respond but Blue asks again, “Where’s your suit?” He looks at his hands, “Where’s mine?”</p><p>He notices the tightly closed Medbay doors, a green light beeping to the right of the entrance signifying that the airlock is on and the vents from O2 are pumping in breathable air. </p><p>“How long have I been out? Have you found the impostor yet?”</p><p>He sits up and attempts to get out of the sheets to stand.</p><p>Cyan reaches over and blocks his path. “Woah, woah, woah, mister. <em> None of that. </em> Doctor’s orders, get back in bed.”</p><p>“I haven’t even got out yet.”</p><p>“Yeah, whatever. Semantics. You’re staying put for the next three days. Then you can start doing tasks again. What you need right now is rest.”</p><p>Cyan pulls his chair a little closer and rubs at the back of his neck, his eyes searching for something.</p><p>“I’ll tell you what’s going on, but then I expect you to rest back up, okay? You’ve been out for a day. You <em> need </em>more rest.”</p><p>“Apologies. Nonetheless, please tell me what’s happening. I-- I <em> have </em>to know.”</p><p>Cyan nods, “Of course. Absolutely. What do you want to know first?”</p><p>“What <em> the hell </em> happened?”</p><p>Cyan chuckled mirthlessly, <em> “Well, </em> uh-- kind of <em> a lot, </em>to be honest…”</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em> Cyan ran with Blue in his arms to the Medbay, Purple and Yellow following close behind. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Cyan quickly but gently set the captain down on one of the many Medbay beds on his front, back and stab wound up, “Purple! Go to one of the cabinets by the door marked with a red cross and pull it open, pass me fabric shears and one of the bigger kits, okay? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Yellow, close the doors and turn on venting from O2, his suit’s popped and he needs air!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Purple rushed forward and handed Cyan the scissors.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Yellow, now!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Yellow confusedly stared at the little metal panel, his hands hovering over it uncertainly. He didn’t seem to be able to say anything. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Purple was at Cyan’s side by now, and Cyan shot him a look and mumbled a little bit out of breath from running, “Could you--?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Purple nodded and hurried to Yellow’s side to see what was wrong. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Yellow looked up at him and looked back to the metal panel with a distinct fear. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “What’s wrong?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Yellow struggled. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “This-- I…” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He trailed off. Purple was hit with dawning horror. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You don’t know what you’re doing do you?” Fear made his voice quake. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I swear it’s not me-- I’m not the impostor. You have to believe me, Purple.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Purple swallowed his fear, shoved Yellow out of the way, and inputted the correct information hurriedly. He turned away from Yellow quickly, avoiding his eyes as he quickly walked back to Cyan’s side, prepared to assist in any way he could.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Yellow forced his own anxieties down and followed. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Are you two okay?” The pair nodded.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “What took so long?”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Yellow shot Purple a glance to read his expression but the other man didn’t meet his gaze. Before Purple could answer, Cyan cut him off, “Honestly, I don’t care. Yellow, on the desktop of the computer, there’s file information on every crewmate here. Check Blue’s blood type, it’ll be under the tab ‘Sharpe, L. -- Captain’.” </em>
</p>
<hr/><p>And so the night went. </p><p>Led by Cyan, the trio cut Blue out of his suit. After they removed the knife, they stopped the bleeding and cleaned the wound, applying antiseptic at the end. After that, they went and applied a quarter of a dose of ‘Ambrosia’, an advanced medicine created by MIRA that could increase the rate of healing in flesh wounds while battling infection.</p><p>Blue had made it.</p><p>“We expect that you’ll make a full recovery in four days. Barely any scarring and everything. Of course that means you have to rest a whole lot until then, but… it’s a good trade.”</p><p>Blue nods, digesting the information. He looks lost in thought.</p><p>“Are you-- are you okay?”</p><p>Blue snaps out of it and nods, relieving Cyan. He has no idea how humans function.</p><p>“What are you thinking about?”</p><p>Blue pauses thoughtfully once more.</p><p>“Where were Red and Green?”</p>
<hr/><p><em>The crew had been lounging in the Medbay, Purple, Cyan, and the unconscious Blue without their suits on. (Yellow had insisted on keeping his on "just in case something</em> else<em> happens", despite Cyan explaining how the vesting system was basically indestructible.)</em></p><p><em>Th</em>e<em> doors slid open. Purple looked up, and cocked his head, “Oh, that must be--” </em></p><p>
  <em> Red and Green charged in screaming, armed with long pieces of spare piping from Storage. Purple yelped and fell off of the bed he’d been sitting on; Yellow tripped over his own feet trying to press himself against the opposite wall; Cyan stared up at the brotherly pair from the computer unbothered. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> The pair stopped in place, clutching each other and holding out the metal tubes as threateningly as they could muster. </em>
</p><p><em> Getting to his feet clumsily, Yellow sarcastically yelled back at the pair, “Good afternoon, guys! How are you </em> lovely <em> people doing?!” </em></p><p>
  <em> Rather than answer, Red harshly spat out, “Why was their blood all the way from the Cafeteria to here?!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Not that we’re complaining, of course…” Green joked out. Red elbowed him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Well?!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Cyan answered as calmingly as he could, “Well, Blue was stabbed, but--” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You stabbed Blue?!” Red cried. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “No, but--”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You stabbed Blue!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I didn’t, I’m just explaining--” </em>
</p><p><em> “If you didn’t stab Blue, why are you so calm?!” Pointing at Cyan wildly and looking to the others for support-- “He </em> stabbed <em> Blue!” </em></p><p>
  <em> “Goddammit, Red, will you up shut your f×××?!” Purple screeched. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Red dropped his pipe in shock. He stepped forward to Purple, looking as if he were about to start lecturing him on manners--  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> But he slipped on the pipe and fell on his butt. Green giggled. Red hit his brother’s ankle. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Cyan calmly resumed, “We found Blue in the Cafeteria with a knife in his back. He’s right there.” Cyan pointed to the bed directly left of Green, where a completely undisturbed Blue lay in his sleep, an IV bag hooked to his arm. His chest steadily rose and fell.  </em>
</p><p><em> “Enough about that,” Yellow cut in, “Where were you two? The emergency meeting sirens were going off </em> all across <em> the ship. The blood was so obvious and hard to miss and you two just proved that seeing it was enough to alert you to come here. The lights went out and Blue was stabbed around ten AM this morning, and it’s one PM now. Where were you in that three hour time gap?!” </em></p><p>
  <em> Cyan frowned thoughtfully. Truth be told, since he knew for a fact that there wasn’t any real danger on the ship-- and he’d checked, after Blue’s stabbing, smelling and listening through the electrical vents and piping for any other creatures on board that weren’t human; he found none-- he just hadn’t been as concerned with their disappearance, too preoccupied with Blue. Now that it had been pointed out for him, he saw the strangeness in it. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Red and Green fumbled for answers. </em>
</p><p><em> “We got lost and separated. We re-grouped in Navigation around ten-thirty,” Red began. Green continued, “We couldn’t see a thing in all that darky-ness, so we spent an hour getting to Electrical to fix the lights! Then we noticed everyone was gone and there was a bloody mess in the Cafeteria trailing here, so we grabbed </em> these <em> bad boys--” he held up his pipe in example, “--and made our way here in a blaze of glory!” </em></p><p>
  <em> “Yeah. Also we’re glad none of you are dead. That would really suck.” Green nodded in agreement. </em>
</p><p><em> Purple exhaled, “Their story checks out.” He held up his crewmate’s tablet and pointed to a notification. "With the emergency lighting in Medbay I figured that since we can't prove whether their lying or not ourselves, I'd check the systems log." He faced the tablet back to him.</em> <em>“It says that the lights were re-established around eleven-thirty-eight. They're not lying... about this."</em></p><p>
  <em> Yellow nodded shakily and collapsed onto the bed opposing Purple. </em>
</p>
<hr/><p>“Hmmm.”</p><p>“What are you thinking, Cap?” Cyan asks, tossing him a bottle of water. </p><p>Blue catches it with ease. “Well, they could always be lying. I take it that we haven’t found the impostor yet then?”</p><p>Cyan awkwardly nods, avoiding Blue’s gaze.</p><p>“Is there any information of note?”</p><p>“There’s some, but personally, I just don’t think it makes a lot of sense for anyone to be an impostor here… You probably don’t want to hear it anyway.” Cyan tries to laugh.</p><p>Blue sighs, knowing what Cyan’s trying to do. He doesn’t want to eject anyone either, but what needs to be done needs to be done.</p><p>“Cy, you know that’s not true. Someone on board is an impostor. There must be a little bit of information you can offer me.”</p><p>Cyan scratches the back of his neck, and swallows. <em> What is he supposed to say? </em></p><p>“Well,” he carefully begins, “I suppose where everyone was is of import.”</p><p>Blue nods, encouraging him to continue.</p><p>“When the lights went out, I was here, inspecting samples. Um, Purp was in Storage getting fuel for the Engines, Red and Green went together to prime the shields, and Yellow was in Electrical, calibrating the distributor.”</p><p>Blue is silent for a moment. </p><p>“What is it?”</p><p>Blue looks Cyan over. “Several things. Why were you and Purple separated?”</p><p>Cyan swallows nervously, realizing he had just admitted to being in a room that had a vent directly to Electrical, where the source of the lights were.</p><p>“Purple said he felt uncomfortable being alone with anyone else, and I didn’t want to force him with me.”</p><p>Blue nods, accepting the answer. “Are you sure that Purple was in Storage?” </p><p>“Positive. Around three, he and I took everyone’s tablets and did all the tasks while Yellow, Red, and Green took care of you. Fuelling the engines was on his tasklist. You don’t think he’s suspicious do you?”</p><p>“No. It’s just concerning because Yellow told me he was in Storage that morning, which is why he wanted to split up. He said it’d be quicker if we did it that way. I don’t suppose you’ll be able to tell me he had <em> any </em> business in Storage at all?”</p><p>Cyan thinks back to Yellow’s tasklist. “No…”</p><p>“So he lied to me about his whereabouts, I let him go alone, he admitted to being in Electrical afterwards, and apparently he didn’t know how to close the Medbay doors; this all begs the question on if he was telling the truth or actually hiding something away from us...”</p><p>Blue sighs, feeling stupid. He runs his fingers through his straight hair. “Sometimes I don’t understand human interaction very well.”</p><p>Cyan nods to that sentiment, knowing the feeling all too well.</p><p>“I thought he was acting strangely that morning but I didn’t listen to myself. And so I got stabbed. I guess karma has funny ways of getting us back.”</p><p>Cyan looks at him, finally getting what Blue was saying, “You don’t-- you don’t think Yellow’s the impostor, do you?”</p><p>Blue gives him a look. Cyan exhales sharply, knowing that he needs something big to change the captain’s mind. Blue makes a compelling argument; by all means, if Cyan didn’t know the truth, didn’t know that he himself is the impostor, he’d be convinced.</p><p>He silently curses Yellow’s deceitful behavior.</p><p>“We can’t just eject him because of a little suspiciousness on his part, though!”</p><p>“Why not?”</p><p>“Because-- because what if he’s innocent? <em> What if we’re wrong? </em> That brings us one more crewmate down and all that.” Cyan gesticulated wildly, not knowing how to make a case for Yellow.</p><p>Blue sighs painfully. “I don’t want to do this, Cyan, believe me. But unless you can give me solid proof that Yellow isn’t the impostor, we’ve got the one shot.”</p><p>Cyan grasps at straws, “Well-- well-- how do we know <em> you’re </em> innocent! Maybe you’re lying to throw us off and get Yellow killed!” Blue raises an eyebrow and Cyan panics: “I’m <em> not </em> saying that it’s you, I’m just <em> saying </em> you’ll look weird if you accuse Yellow. I mean-- what evidence do we even have that <em> you’re </em> human?”</p><p>Blue stares at him unblinkingly. Unphased he answers, “In the recording sent by MIRA, it was explained that impostors have an involuntary response to pain that results in their appendages being forcefully exposed. I was stabbed. Did you guys see any tentacles?”</p><p>Cyan sits down hard into his chair with his hands over his face. “Dammit, Blue, please. We can’t just kill Yellow. I’m sorry for saying you might not be human, but-- just-- <em> please?” </em></p><p>Blue sighs, “Why do you care so much?”</p><p>“Because I know it’s not Yellow. <em> I know it. </em> I just wish there was a way to prove it…”</p><p>Blue shakes his head, guilt eating at him. <em> What if Cyan was right? </em></p><p>“I wish there was a test we could run or evidence we could analyze, but I just don’t think we--”</p><p>“I’ve got it!” Cyan falls out of his chair in energy. </p><p>Blue flinches at the sudden reaction. “Oh, sorry Blue, it’s just that I think I know what I can do to prove Yellow didn’t do it!”</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>“Well, here’s what you were stabbed with!” He stuck on disposable surgical gloves from a small container on the desk and opened an ice box by the chair (Blue wondered how he just noticed it) and triumphantly shook it, “I have <em> evidence!” </em></p><p>Blue nods at the knife, looking it over cautiously. Blood-- <em> his </em>blood, he realizes quickly-- still drip down it.</p><p><em> “Cool. </em> How can you use this evidence?”</p><p>“Oh, right.” He leans over his desk and inputs a code into a small panel on the wall. A section of it opens up, revealing a small box with a glass door.</p><p>“This is what we use to inspect samples. I didn’t clean the knife at all, so there’s still plenty of-- uh… <em> data, </em> on it, and if we run tests on this guy, we’ll see DNA of the <em> stabbed--” </em> he points to Blue, “and <em> the stabber.” </em></p><p>He opens the glass door, places the knife instead, and hits ‘inspect sample’. A message flashes over the container’s top in green, 'ETA 4:00:00:00'.</p><p>“From there, I can prove that Yellow didn’t stab you! It says here that it’ll take only four more days!” He looks to Blue pleadingly, “We can wait that long right?”</p><p>Blue smiles warmly, the first time Cyan has the pleasure of feeling the warmth of another crewmate. It feels pleasant and good and fulfilling. From the slight crinkle beside Blue’s warm brown eyes, Cyan feels something stir in his chest at the signal of praise and validation. It feels wonderful.</p><p>He’s never been smiled at before. </p><p>“Yeah, absolutely. Great work, Cyan.”</p><p>Cyan beams at him.</p><p>Blue goes on, “And then we’ll know for sure who stabbed me, so when we eject someone, we won’t be making a mistake.”</p><p>The smile falls off of his face. Cyan feels his blood run cold. </p><p><em> Oh God. </em> He didn’t see this coming. What has he just done?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Voting Begins In: ××× -- Part I</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Three days can be long.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Voting Begins In: Three Days</b>
</p><p>Yellow is the last one to get to the Medbay. He steps in, closes the door (Pat had taught him how), and undoes his helmet, before sauntering over to the nearest bed and plopping into it, still not bothering to take off the rest of his suit. Across from his bed lies Blue’s, the owner of which curtly nods in his direction as greeting before turning back to his book.</p><p>Purple walks over and sets down a prepared plate of blueberry pancakes and orange juice (courtesy of Green, who turns out to be an adept chef) before going back to the corner next to the computer and sitting on the floor, nursing a mug of black coffee.</p><p>Red and Green sit on the bed beside Blue’s. Red sketches a detailed image of the stars seen from the Cafeteria windows, eating bites of pancake here and there; Green eats too, though Pat finds it of note how he’s torn the pancake apart with his fingers and eats the small torn pieces.</p><p>They’d first started to eat in the Cafeteria when they’d boarded, two meals a day. They’d close all the doors and turn on O2 venting so they could safely take off their helmets, and then they’d take a seat at one of the many tables, where they’d have their food, as was protocol.</p><p>Today was the fifth day onboard, and starting the previous night after Pat and Blue talked, seeing as the former was confined to his bedspace and it just  made more sense to move to the Medbay instead of the Cafeteria for meals, the crew had agreed to temporarily switch dining areas to the Medbay. This way they could still keep all six astronauts together and not only conserve oxygen they’d be sending to two rooms, but make sure the impostor didn’t start his killing spree. </p><p>As Pat sits in his chair, he idly wonders if the crew would consider staying in the Medbay after Blue had recovered. O2 vents faster to the space, and since it was a smaller room than the Cafe, less oxygen was unnecessarily used.</p><p>Mostly though, Pat likes how the Medbay was smaller, meaning everyone is physically closer together. He enjoys the proximity.</p><p>Patton drinks his orange juice slowly, savoring the sweet and tangy flavor, staring off into somewhere. He doesn't quite know how he feels yet about the other crewmates, but he can't deny that he is growing fond of them. He’d known even before he’d set foot on the ship that it would be impossible for him to complete the task he was ordered to, but he’d had no idea that it would feel anything like this.</p><p>He knows that the others don’t trust him, knows that they didn’t trust <em> anyone, </em> but that doesn’t stop him from trusting them. They are all incredibly unique and… <em> soft-- </em>he supposes is the word for it-- compared to the people he came from. </p><p>For example, Blue’s primary goal is to see that all his humans survived, a goal that, as far as he himself knew, landed himself at a monumental risk. </p><p>Red and Green have a bond that Patton has never witnessed before in his life, where two individuals are so open about their trust and connection. Back home it had been more than taboo: it had been punishable by death. Being so public about trusting anyone was seen as weakness in a society that preached that only the paranoid survive. </p><p>Shy Purple wears his emotions on his sleeve, and while anxious to a fault (something Patton would never blame him for), wasn’t afraid to show how situations impacted him, making him possibly the most vulnerable of the bunch.</p><p>Yellow, while clearly distrustful of the others, still looks out for his crew in ways Patton would never have the courage to do on his home planet. Specifically, he remembers the way the astronaut had held Blue’s hands to comfort him as he bled out on the floor. Blue had survived of course, but for a while it was looking to be that he wouldn’t. The generosity in holding his hand to ensure his last memories were of comfort and contact…<br/>
Patton admires that. </p><p>He’d grown up being told that humans deserved what his people had planned for them because of that softness, but now that he had come to experience it himself--</p><p>He exhales. Humans are an enigmatic bunch. </p><p>He drains his cup. Standing up and making his way to the orange juice pitcher, Patton remembers his home planet, where he’d once been whipped three times as a child for holding the door open for another. </p><p>Were humans raised the same? He can’t imagine any other way to exist as a society, but the humans he’d been grouped with seemed to feel so relaxed about displaying such obvious vulnerability and trust among themselves, even knowing and understanding the implications of having an impostor infiltrated in their group.</p><p>Why are they like this?</p><p> </p><p>“Alright gentlemen, how do you want to organize today?”</p><p>“Red and I are doing tasks together again!” Green chimes in; his brother nodding along. </p><p>Blue nods, “Sensical.”</p><p>Pat clears his throat, “I’m staying in Medbay with you; I’ll need to keep an eye on your vitals.”</p><p>Blue sighs, disappointed that he’s still on bed rest, but he knows better than to question his doctor. </p><p>“Fine. That means… Purple and Yellow? Are you two okay with that?”</p><p>Purple raises an eyebrow and stares at Yellow, eyes wide, “You want me to go with Yellow? Yellow as in the dude who doesn’t know how to do tasks and close doors and keeps lying and stuff, Yellow?!”</p><p>Yellow looks uncomfortable about being called out like that, and Pat can’t help but to feel ashamed of himself. Yellow <em> is, </em>after all, only getting treated like this because they think he’s like Patton.</p><p>He bites his lip. He has to do something.</p><p>“Blue, would you feel comfortable if Purple was the one to stay with you instead of me? I can go with Yellow.”</p><p>Blue blinks. “Yes, but are you sure you’d like to make that trade?”</p><p>Patton looks to Yellow, who seems as if he wants to just die on the spot.</p><p>"Yes. I trust him.”</p>
<hr/><p>“You’re the impostor.”</p><p>Pat barely conceals the hammering pain his three hearts causes him as they go into overdrive.</p><p>“What are you talking about, Yellow?”</p><p>The other man stands about nine feet away from him next to the upper engine.</p><p>“Why else would you choose to be grouped with me?”</p><p>Panicking, Pat starts yammering, “No no no, you don’t understand, I--” before Pat could even spit out the first excuse in his head, Yellow cuts him off: “No, I don’t want to hear it. I know you’re the impostor, so just--”</p><p>Yellow swallows a lump in his throat, tears pricking his eyes, “<em>just get it over with already!”  </em></p><p>He clenches his fists at his side, preparing himself.</p><p>Pat steps forward slowly and cautiously, Yellow flinching at every footfall and shaking harder and harder. Pat reaches forward and gives his shoulder a light touch. Yellow visibly tenses. </p><p>“Yellow, kiddo, you’re safe. I’m not gonna kill you.”</p><p>Yellow says nothing, but his shoulders begin to shake with held back tears. </p><p>“Do you believe me?”</p><p>He faces the ground tremblingly. In a tiny whisper, he spits out, “You enjoy playing with your food.” </p><p>Patton reoils his hand, shame and hurt burning at his chest. He tries for a smile. He hopes that it didn’t look as broken as he feels. </p><p>He laughs painfully, “Wh-- what do you take me for? A six year old?”</p><p>Yellow says nothing. </p><p>Patton blinks a few times to clear himself. “Yellow, please talk to me.”</p><p>Yellow faces Patton, staring into his eyes.</p><p>“Why would I ever trust you?’</p><p>“Because I won’t hurt you.”</p><p>“Why do you want me to believe you anyway? You’ve already got the Captain in your pocket, you don’t need anyone else to like you, trust you. You’re the impostor, I know it, and even if you spare me after today, I won’t change my mind. You’re a liar.”</p><p>Patton eyes the ground.</p><p>“So answer the question, Cyan: why do you want me to believe you anyway?”</p><p>Patton shrugs half-heartedly, almost wishing he had just let Purple and Yellow go together. “Because I don’t want you to be scared of me?”</p><p>Yellow glares at him through red eyes.</p><p>
  <em> “Why?” </em>
</p><p>Patton sighs, sensing a pattern arising.</p><p>“Because I won’t hurt you.”</p><p>“Do you really expect me to believe you’re not an impostor? I know you are, <em>I know it, oh-- okay?!”</em></p><p>Several tense moments of silence pass.</p><p>Patton inhales slowly, desperate to keep his chest from ripping itself apart in the beats. He searches Yellow’s eyes without saying a thing.</p><p>After a few moments, he reassures quietly, “Listen... you’ll be safe with me. I-- I promise.”</p><p>Not trusting himself to engage in any more conversation, he clasps Yellow’s shoulder with his hand gently and walks down the halls, hoping that his partner will keep up.</p>
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